What Come Up
by SteamPoweredHedgehog
Summary: Spine is having trouble functioning, but when Michael Reed and Rabbit try to figure out what's wrong, they're met with something a LITTLE different than a loose gear. Black goop maybe?


What Comes Up

**(A.N.) I had thirty minutes to kill in class, so I took out my composition book and started writing. If you're reading this, either you're a Steam Powered Giraffe fan or you have no idea who the are. So if you don't know, your assignment is to check them out after you read this. DO EEET! They're awesome. Spine, Rabbit, Hatchworth and Peter Walter VII and the humans belong to SPG.**

It was 11:00 am one Monday morning in San Diego, California. Rabbit and Michael Reed were in the workshop while Matt Smith had gone to help Hatchworth with the sandwiches. "Do we really have to do this again? I've been sitting here for two hours!" Rabbit complained. Michael rolled his eyes. "It's only been thirty minutes, and unless you want your arm to be in an "L" shape forever, I suggest you let me finish."

Rabbit huffed and began eyeing the doorway. A silver hand appeared on the wood frame, dragging along with it the metal body it was attached to. There, leaning heavily on the door frame, was The Spine.

"Spine! You're back! How did the tune up go?" The clockwork automaton perked up in his seat. There was a short pause as The Spine raised his head lazily. "It...went alright. But Rabbit...I'm not feeling so good..." The sound of gears brazing against each other could be heard from his torso, his boiler.

"Spine, is everything okay?" Michael set down his screw driver and hurried to the silver robot's side. Spine struggled to straighten himself, burping up steam in the process. "Uh...no." he replied, slumping over again. Mr. Reed lead Spine to the examination table, next to where Rabbit sat.

"Spine, you should sit down. You're not looking too good." Rabbit said, concern in his voice. The Spine smiled.

"No, I'll stand. Trust me, I tried earlier. Sitting doesn't make it any better." he said as Michael lifted the back of his vest to check his exhausts. "Spine, you have a _ton _of steam building up in your system. I'm going to loosen some things to get it released, okay?" Michael knew what would happen once all that vapor tried to escape, and he wanted the titanium automaton to be prepared.

Rabbit put his left index finger upon his chin, the other arm currently useless. "Did something happen at the checkup? Did anything go wrong?" Rabbit asked. The Spine was about to answer when an uproar of pent-up steam came pouring out of his mouth and back exhausts.

"Augh-plaugh!" Michael coughed as steam filled the human's lungs. It turns out, _he _wasn't prepared for that. "Sorry! My fault! Wasn't ready." he called, waving his hand to clear the air around him. Spine grinned sheepishly from embarrassment when Rabbit giggled.

"How are you feeling now, Spine? Are you better now?" Rabbit asked softly. He was worried about his brother. Spine nodded. "Yes, a little better. I'm still feeling pretty sick, if that's possible." he shrugged. Michael contemplated, watching the automaton with an engineer's eye. The awkwardness of the settling silence shown in The Spine's faceplate. Rabbit, for once, was quiet.

"I'm going to tighten a few functions this time. You're still loose from steam release." Michael finally said. "Okay Mr. Reed. Just do you're thing." Spine authorized. The silver 'bot glanced nervously at the human. "Hey, do you think this is something you can fix?" he asked. Michael smiled and nodded. "Of course I can fix this," He grabbed his screwdriver from the table and began working. "I am a genius, after all."

"Then why is my arm still an 'L'?" Rabbit chimed in. Mr. Reed shot the copper clockwork robot a warning glance. "Believe it or not, Rabbit, I was almost done with you. But now I have Spine to take care of. So you just sit tight." He instructed, pointing the red screwdriver at him.

"Please proceed, Michael." Spine intervened. Michael sighed and tightened one last cog. "How does it feel now?" he asked. "A lot better." Spine said, but his voice rose an octave or two. "Over all feel fine. I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fine I'mfineI'MFINEI'MFINEI'MFINE-" The Spine's eyes went dark, steam beginning to emit from his mouth.

Human and automaton stood frozen in shock. _'What have I done?' _Michael thought. If Rabbit had any breath, he'd be holding it- or using it to rage out on Mr. Reed. Almost as soon as he had shut down, Spine's artificial irises flickered back to their emerald glow and the steam stopped. "Let me just say- that was _not _fun." He grumbled. Rabbit glared at Michael with metaphorical daggers. "W-w-w-w-what the heck was that, M-M-Michael?!" he exclaimed. Mr. Reed adjusted the goggles around his neck. "I don't know! That wasn't supposed to happen!" the human shot back.

"Guys, it's alright! I feel fine now. Actually, I believe you've fixed me, Michael. I'm just glad it wasn't a serious problem." Spine assured them, patting the human on the shoulder. Mr. Reed however, still had his suspicions. It seems like the robots have been operating worse that worse lately. "Are you absolutely sure that you're okay?" he asked. "Of course I am. I'm fully operational." Spine promised.

"BLLEEEEEEAAAAAUUGHAUH!"

Oil splattered onto the concrete floor. The Spine's tank gears had begun to work in reverse, sending forth a surplus of oil up his metal esophagus. "Spine, please stop doing that. I'd hate to be rude, but that's gross." Rabbit commented, patting the silver robot on the back. Spine, with his hands o his knees and slick dripping from his lips, glared at Rabbit, unable to speak.

As The Spine desperately tried to get oxygen to his overheated systems, Michael Reed was pacing in place. Peter A. Walter VII, you over-filled his oil compartment, you idiot!" he yelled down the hall. Matt Smith and Hatchworth must have heard all the commotion, for they appeared at the door-less entry with a plate of sandwiches.

"Hold your horses, everyone! We've got the sandwiches! Man am I hungr-" Matt's eyes focused right on the accumulating puddle upchucked oil and Spine's black-slicked mouth. There was a brief awkward pause as the silver robot tried to wipe his mouth clean with the sleeve of his shirt.

Matt Smith looked from Spine, to Hatchworth, then to the plate of just-prepared sandwiches. "Here," he put the plate in Hatchworth's hands. "I've lost my appetite." With that the left the room with a human and three automatons giggling uncontrollably.

"Oh, Matt. Still getting used to the happenings of the Walter Manor." Rabbit laughed. Not even Spine could help emitting a small chuckle. "Well, how can you blame him? Not even _I've _seen a robot blow somewhat metaphorical chunks until a few moments ago. _Not_ a good experience, by the way." he said, standing upright again.

It didn't last long. Soon enough there was even more slick on the floor.

Michael put a gentle hand on The Spine's shoulder. "That should do it. Alright Spine, lets get you cleaned up." Spine nodded gratefully as he was guided to the nearest bathroom. Rabbit stood,shifted his weight from one mechanical foot to the other, with a confused expression on his faceplate.

"Um...Michael? What about my arm?"


End file.
